Burned
by NikkieRose
Summary: "She was like an angel sent from Hell, truly the Devil's work. So pure and innocent yet whenever she touched Kick, his skin would burn and blister and she wouldn't care."


_**Burned**_

Kick sat hunched over, his trembling hands enveloped around the feathery wisps of hair that stuck out from beneath his fingertips. His oceanic eyes were closed as they threatened to spill a tsunami across the ratty carpet with too many stains to count. Outside, the motel sign blinked on and off slowly, its blue and green light illuminating his slumped figure through the translucent window. A broken lamp sat close to his feet, glass shattered and sprawled across the floor recklessly. Behind him, unkempt sheets still held the ghostly imprint of two bodies as their limbs tangled together, soft breaths and gentle caresses wordlessly taking place.

Suddenly Kick sprung up, his sharp gaze darting to the bed in which he just sat on. He quickly tugged the sheets off with disgust and threw them into a nearby corner, all the while keeping the storm hidden behind his eyes. Although that was challenging the second he caught the familiar scent of rosebuds and vanilla drifting through the air, gradually burning his nostrils until he could take no more. Nothing was right anymore. Absolutely nothing made sense the way it used to, causing Kick's vision to blur and his hearing to fade. Shaking hands clutched his head once again before he let out what he's been holding in for so long.

It felt like he was drowning in his own tears. The salty taste was invading his mouth and pouring over his whole being. He grasped the bedpost with a pained moan and fell to the ground. Sweat covered his body and slathered its way onto his clothes, mixing with the storm that spurted out of his eyes. He truly felt pathetic and wished he could stop, but he just couldn't. Not when she still meant everything to him.

Her words still echoed in his head, swirling like a dizzying pattern that failed to halt. Every moment he had spent wallowing in remorse reminded him of what he couldv'e said back to her. But, what he couldv'e said messed with his thoughts, turning them into frozen pallets of ice floating in a love wasteland made only for one; a boy with a ruptured heart impending to remain in broken memories. Cracked fragments of their blissful past when he was hers and she was his.

It felt like his heart was a never ending rainstorm, backed up only by striking displays of crackling lightening and booming thunder. There was absolutely no hope for the hollow, pump-like organ to be patched up again, a mangled mass of bandages inside a worn out chest.

But somehow, it was still pumping whenever he thought of running his fingertips throughout her silky hair and watching her eyelashes flutter beneath his gaze. It was still pounding whenever he thought of her small hands and how they would always hold on to his larger ones. It was still _exploding _whenever he thought of her laugh and the way it sounded in sync with his.

He wanted to hate her. He wanted to make her pay and silence her strangled protests with hands wrapped around her neck as his fingernails dug into her soft peach skin. He wanted to bruise her physically and mentally a dozen times over to make her suffer. But most of all, he wanted to make her feel the same way he did; lost and broken like a forgotten toy. She had tossed him away as if she was finished playing with him, moving on to something bigger and better. He wanted to do the same to her.

But no matter how many times he thought about making her crumble the same way he did, he just couldn't. Thoughts were not coherent and his mind was buzzing wildly, but he knew he just couldn't. Even though nothing was right and everything was wrong, he still loved her so much that it hurt.

She was like an angel sent from Hell, truly the Devil's work. So pure and innocent yet whenever she touched Kick his skin would burn and blister and she wouldn't care because _he belonged to her_. He still did.

And he didn't care if he got burned.

* * *

_I don't know what this is. I don't even know why I'm here. I've been MIA for about a year now and decided to upload this because I felt like it. Honestly I think I lost all interest writing on here. I resorted to Wattpad two years ago, only mildly checking my account here. So if you're new to reading my stuff, or if you're one of my old buddies on here (I used to be Dynamite102): thank you for reading this. It's only a oneshot (like most of the things I have up) and still very short. But I can promise you now, my writing has improved miraculously since last post. I seriously cringed when I went back and read my previous work. At least I'm kinda proud of this._

_Anyways, you're probably wondering what this little piece means. Questions are probably floating around in your head as you sit there wondering just what the hell you read. Alright so here it goes:_

_Kendall was depicted as a pure yet evil being. She basicalily tore Kick's heart right out of his chest, but he still loved her with all he had left. I know Kick is never the one to cry. He doesn't show vulnerability. I realize that. I wanted to create something different, something that's never been done before. Usually Kendall is the one moping around about Kick. Well not in this story._

_My point here was to show that love can bring out the worst in you. No matter how many times Kendall betrayed Kick, he would take her back in a heartbeat because she was his angelic devil and nothing could change that. Kendall burned him so many times that he became blind towards her disloyalty. __He stopped realizing the fact that she was bad for him._

_..._

_Well just jumping right in here to say thank you. Thank you if you actually read this and liked it. Thank you if you comment. Thank you if you remember me. Just...thank you. I don't know if I'll be back, but if I randomly show up agian, I'll be sure to have something good!_


End file.
